


An Unconventional Confession

by Chimera Manticore (chimeramanticore)



Category: Shovel Knight
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 06:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20869781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimeramanticore/pseuds/Chimera%20Manticore
Summary: Donovan finally tells Luan how he feels. The circumstances kind of suck. (but it's fine he's fine)





	An Unconventional Confession

**Author's Note:**

> hey writing someone dying was pretty fun actually?? but maybe don't read this if you don't wanna hear a fairly detailed description of donovan bleeding out lmao  
this fic took me actual weeks and like. I'm so glad to have it out. my manga opus. I hope u enjoy uwu

In all honesty, it was really Donovan’s fault, as much as he’d hate to admit it. He’d underestimated the amount of protection this artifact had, he’d underestimated the size and speed of the guards, he’d underestimated their strength… He had been in charge of researching this heist. Usually, Luan did it, but he’d asked to do it himself this time. He just wanted to show Luan that he _ could _do it, that he was capable of planning something successfully on his own.

But as he let Luan all but drag him out of the temple, clutching at a large gash in his chest, he came to the conclusion that maybe, just _ maybe, _ he had fucked up.

In his defense, it was hard to feel guilty when he was busy focusing on staying conscious.

“Do you still have the chalice?” Luan asked.

“Y-yeah,” Donovan replied, gesturing vaguely at his bag.

“Good.” Luan was silent for a moment. “How are you doing?”

“I’m awake,” Donovan said. “Best I can do in this sort of situation.”

Luan said nothing.

“I… Luan, I’m so sorry. I should’ve– I didn’t do my job and I–”

“This isn’t the time for apologies,” Luan said. “Now is the time to get us out of here. We’ve still got guards on our tail.” He pulled off into an alleyway, taking Donovan with him. Luan pressed a finger to his lips, signaling his partner to be quiet. Donovan nodded, sliding down the wall to sit on the ground and leaning his head back against the wall.

Donovan looked up. They were on the edge of a city, the lights nearby obscuring the stars. The last time he was in a situation like this, he recalled counting the stars to stay distracted, stay awake. His eyes trailed over to the moon. _ One. _ He sighed, his breath coming out more ragged than he expected it to. Giving up on the sky, he looked back down at himself, assessing the damage. That was definitely the most blood he’d seen in a while. Maybe ever.

The thought occurred to Donovan that there was a chance he wouldn’t make it out of this heist alive. He tried to shake it off, but the sight of all that blood, oozing slowly but steadily from his chest…

“Alright,” Luan said, “coast is clear. Can you stand?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got you.” Luan moved over to Donovan, slinging the latter’s arm over his shoulders to steady him. Donovan’s head lulled a little at the sudden change in elevation, but he willed himself to stay steady. Even if he felt like throwing up.

“Will they– will they catch us?” Donovan asked.

“Not if we stay quiet,” Luan replied. “Just try not to draw any attention, and we’ll be fine.”

“Luan, look at us. We’re the epitome of…” Donovan’s head suddenly swam. “...of drawing attention,” he finished.

“Just… stay quiet, okay?” Luan said. Donovan nodded.

Luan continued to navigate their way through the alleys of the city, avoiding light and passers-by nearly flawlessly. Meanwhile, Donovan couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to the worst. To the thought of him dying. Would it be his fault? Would Luan hate him? He still had the chalice, right? That could redeem him, maybe even a little bit. Maybe only just a little bit.

“Luan,” he said.

“Not the time,” Luan said.

“Luan, if I die here…”

“...What put that thought in your head?”

“It entered my head around the same time the first liter of blood left my chest, I think.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Luan said. He almost sounded shaken.

“...I’m really sorry,” Donovan mumbled to himself. “I didn’t… I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

“You’re going to be fine," Luan said, almost more to himself than to Donovan. "I’m going to make sure that you’re fine.”

Donovan made a noise, but didn’t respond otherwise. He suddenly felt very, very warm, and very, very heavy. He felt like he was melting, almost. With all the blood coming out of him, he might have actually been melting, he thought. His vision started to blur, and he somehow couldn’t find the energy to shake his head to clear it.

Luan was saying something. He couldn’t make out what. He sounded muffled, far away.

“Luan…” Donovan muttered. “I… I forgot to tell you…”

Luan said something else that Donovan couldn’t hear. He could only assume he’d asked, “What?”

“I, uh…” Donovan figured if he was going to die, he may as well get something off his chest. If only he could get the words out.  


“I love you,” Donovan said finally. “In– in love with you. I… it’s been so long… I…”

Donovan tried to continue, he _ wanted _ to continue. But his body gave out right then and there, and a sharp ringing filled his ears, and then suddenly the world was dark.

When Donovan woke up again, he was greeted with that same ringing in his ears, though it faded quickly. It hurt to breathe. He tried opening his eyes, slowly, and found that the light was far too bright for him. He shut his eyes again, sighing gently. He had been here before.

Donovan had a rough streak of getting reckless during heists. In some ways, he supposed he wasn't any better than Reize or Luan in his younger days, but at least even Luan had the sense to drop that habit as he aged. Donovan, despite being only a few years younger, was still horribly immature. Every time he got hurt on the job, every time he ran headlong into a fight he knew couldn't win, he was acting just like a child. And every time he got hurt, Luan came to save him. Maybe that's why he did it, he thought. Maybe it was all one big elaborate plan to get Luan's attention, his care.

Pathetic.

Donovan tried opening his eyes again, and found it much easier now. Assessing his surroundings, he realized he was in Luan's house. In his room. In his bed. Of course he was. He strained to remember what had even happened this time. He remembered sitting in the alley, counting… something. He remembered the blood. He remembered the pain. Past that, it was all fuzz.

Donovan looked down at himself. He'd been stripped down and given a new pair of pants– a pair he didn't recognize, they must have been Luan's. He wasn't wearing a shirt to make way for the bloodstained bandages wrapped around his chest. Definitely not the first time he’d had bandages there. Bad memories. Donovan sighed gently, staring back up at the ceiling. He wanted to get up, to find someone, but he knew better by now. It’d either hurt him now as he tried, or later, when he'd regret it more. Besides, he felt too weak to move now anyway.

“Donovan,” a familiar voice said. Donovan looked to the door, finding Luan standing there with a roll of fresh bandages and a glass of water. “You’re awake,” he said, sounding relieved.

“I… I am, yeah,” Donovan replied. “How long have I been out?”

“Just for the night,” Luan told him. “How do you feel?”

“Like absolute garbage,” Donovan said, failing to hide a smile. Luan smiled gently as well.

“Well, I’m going to need to change your bandages,” he said. “Mind sitting up for me?”

“In all honesty, I don’t know if I can. I haven’t tried moving yet.”

Luan hummed, moving to set the items down on the bedside table. "Well, I can always help," he said. "Here." He took Donovan's hand in one of his own and put his other under Donovan's back, raising him up gently. Donovan felt his chest tighten where he'd been hurt, but managed to stifle himself. He didn't want to worry Luan more than he already had.

Luan got to work undoing the bandages Donovan currently had on. Donovan got to work avoiding eye contact. He relished in the attention, of course, but physical contact was… a bit much. It always led his mind astray, to things he knew he could never talk about with Luan. Somehow he felt that if he thought them hard enough, Luan would be able to hear. He had to save himself the embarrassment by trying his best to ignore those thoughts. Which started with not looking at him while he redressed his wounds. Obviously.

"So…" Luan started, somewhat apprehensively. "How much exactly do you remember from last night?"

"Uh… Not much, honestly. I remember hiding in that alley with you. I remember running around in the side streets– or, rather, _ you _ were. I was just sort of… there. I don't really remember specifics. Just flashes."

"You don't remember anything you said, then?"

"...No, I don't."

Luan paused, thinking a minute, before speaking. "I think we need to talk, Donovan."

Donovan's blood ran cold. "About… about what?"

"Something you told me last night. You, uh… How do I put this? You… confessed something to me. You– you said you loved me. That you had for a while now. Then you lost consciousness."

Donovan said nothing.

"I figured you wouldn't remember that happening," Luan continued, "but I did want to bring it up. Do you really feel that way about me?"

"I, uh…" He wasn't sure if he should be truthful or not.

"You don't have to lie," Luan said, reaching over for the roll of bandages. "I won't mind either way."

"Wh– Don't say stuff like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't say you won't mind, or that you care about me, or that you worry about me, or any of that," he snapped. "I know you don't mean it."

"Donovan, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you're straight! Y-you're straight, you don't feel the same way about me that I feel about you! So don't fucking tell me you love me when I _ know _you don't mean it the way that I wish you would!"

Luan was silent. Donovan would have to turn to look at him, and he couldn't will himself to do it. He really let everything out, didn't he? His life may as well be over at this point.

"...Donovan," Luan said finally. "You think I'm straight?"

"You had a wife," Donovan said.

"I _ had _ a wife, exactly. There's a reason I broke up with her, you know. I realized I wasn't happy with her. I wasn't happy with _ any _ woman. I…" He laughed a little to himself. "Donovan, if I'm being honest, I realized I wasn't straight because of you. I realized I was making excuses to be with you over my own wife. I realized I liked being with you more than her. That I liked _ you _more than her. That I…” He trailed off.

“...That you what?” Donovan asked.

“Th-that I…” Luan chuckled, looking down shyly. “That I loved you,” he said. “That I had for a while, and I never even realized it.” He sighed. “This whole time, I thought I saw you as family. That you were just a close friend, or just a business partner. I should have known better. I should’ve realized sooner. Hell, I should’ve realized it when I asked you to help me with Reize.”

“I would’ve done that anyway.”

“But _ why, _ Donovan? Because you love him like a son in all two years of him existing? Or because you wanted to make me happy?”

Donovan said nothing. He felt his cheeks heat up quickly, and decided it would be better to stare down at his bed sheets instead of at Luan.

“When I asked you to help me raise my own son,” Luan continued, “I think… I think that should have been a sign. I’ve been unfair to you, Donovan. I’ve kept you waiting.”

“Y-you haven’t!” Donovan said. “It was my fault! I never… I never told you how I felt. I was too scared. I was a coward. I– things could have been so much easier if I didn’t wait so long.”

  
“Things could have been easier if I didn’t confuse myself into thinking I wanted a wife,” Luan said, laughing to himself.

“Luan, I…” Donovan looked at him again, finally. “What do we do now? What– what are we?”

“...What do you want to be?” Luan asked, taking Donovan’s hand.

Donovan swallowed, trying to get rid of the knot in his throat. Why was he so nervous? Wasn’t this what he had wanted for so long now? He’d just never thought it would actually happen. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was fake. Maybe he was dead.

“Luan,” he said, a lot quieter than he meant to be. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I love you to the ends of the earth and back.” He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling very foolish. “Please… please say that you feel the same way.”

“Donovan,” Luan said. “I love you too. And I’ve taken far too long to realize that. I’ve kept you waiting for me. I hope you can forgive me. I hope I can make it up to you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Donovan said, opening his eyes to look at Luan. “I already said–”

Donovan was cut off by Luan kissing him. Donovan melted almost immediately into the kiss, as if it was almost natural. As if he’d been hoping and imagining and fantasizing for years now, about this single moment. And all too quickly, it ended as Luan pulled back slightly- but not too far.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “I should have asked.”

“Please just shut up,” Donovan breathed. “Kiss me again. Please.”

So Luan kissed him again, deeper this time. Donovan leaned into it, reaching up to cup Luan’s cheek. Luan moved toward Donovan, onto the bed, and Donovan moved back to make space until he was pressed up against the wall. The two only broke contact in between kisses to breathe. It felt like heaven to Donovan. The one thing he had hoped for in almost all the time he knew Luan… It occurred to him just how touch starved he really was. As Luan held Donovan’s hand, as he used his free hand to trace around Donovan’s skin, being careful to avoid his wounds, Donovan realized how much he had been repressing himself around Luan. Wanting him to touch him, but not feeling justified, feeling dirty, feeling _ wrong. _ So he ignored his feelings and hid them as far down in himself as he could. He never thought he would get the chance to act on them. But here he was, in Luan’s house, in Luan’s room, in his bed, in his _ pants _ , for crying out loud, kissing him. _ Kissing him. _Finally.

When they broke again, Donovan couldn’t help but laugh.

“You alright?” Luan asked.

Donovan nodded, his eyes still closed. He felt like he might cry if he opened them. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s just been… _ so _long. So many years of wanting this and feeling like I didn’t deserve it and that I would never deserve it. And now you’re here. Now we’re both here and I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Luan was quiet, but Donovan could tell he was smiling at him. He just knew.

“Luan,” he said suddenly, opening his eyes. “What do we do about Reize?’

“What do you mean?”

“What do we tell him?” Donovan said. “He knows he had a mother. How do we tell him about us?"

"We… we don't have to tell him outright," Luan said. "He's still very young. He'd be able to get used to having two fathers quickly."

The phrase 'two fathers' suddenly made Donovan much more nervous.

"No, I–" He struggled to find the words. "I don't… I don't want him to see me like that."

"Like what? As a father?"

"No! I mean– yes." Donovan sighed. "I'm not– I-I'm not his dad. I don't see myself like that to him and I don't know if I'm ready to see myself like that at all."

"...Hm. Alright," Luan said. "We can figure it out later."

"Thank you, Luan." Donovan sighed, closing his eyes. "I… I love you very much."

"I love you too, Donovan," Luan said, and stood to go return the bandages.

Donovan watched as he left. He said he loved him, he thought. He didn't just say it. _He_ _loved_ _him_. It still felt almost too good to be true. But Donovan didn't want to question this. If he was dead, he didn't want to know. Besides, that kiss felt too good for him to be dead. Luan's love was just something he had to get used to.

But after waiting this long to hear him say it, Donovan figured it wouldn't take him very long to get used to it at all.


End file.
